Three Miles an Hour
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: Sam and Dean pick up a hitchhiker, a sixteen-year-old girl. Though she’s perfectly fine with riding silently in the car all the way to New Mexico, trouble finds them quickly.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Sam and Dean pick up a hitchhiker, a sixteen-year-old girl. Though she's perfectly fine with riding silently in the car all the way to New Mexico, trouble finds them quickly.**

**Rating: K+**

**Three Miles an Hour**

Chapter 1:

Sam looked up from his laptop to the door of the motel room as Dean walked in, shutting the door behind himself. Sam was comfortably sitting at the small table, or sitting as comfortably as one could in a wooden chair, his feet propped up on the bed as he scanned the Internet for anything of interest.

"Hey, sleeping beauty finally woke up," Dean said with a smile.

"You're the one who got six hours of sleep yesterday in the car." Sam glanced at the clock on his laptop, realizing that he'd lost track of time. "The note said you left at noon. What took you so long?" he asked, looking back to Dean.

"Well, there was this little old lady crossing the street on the way to the sub place, so you know me…" Dean murmured absently.

"You ran her down in your haste to get food and had to stop to mourn the damage to the Impala?" Sam asked, proud of himself for how well he kept a straight face.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam and tossed the sandwich none-too-gently at his head, snapping, "Smartass." Sam caught it one handed, which increased the intensity of the glare.

"Uh huh," Sam said with a dry smile. He unwrapped the sandwich, took a bite, and chewed and swallowed before speaking. "We should be able to make it to Corona by nine if we leave in like ten minutes."

"Awesome," Dean replied.

After finishing their lunch, the two brothers gathered up their few belongings and took off, Dean behind the wheel, Foreigner blaring from the speakers. The scenery mostly included fields and farms, giving them few interesting things to look at, though the weather was warm and sunny so they kept the windows down for a while.

They drove mostly in silence for an hour or so before Sam straightened up in his seat, narrowing his eyes. "Is that a kid?" he asked, staring down the country road at the outline of a person walking.

"Huh. Looks like." Dean turned down the music and slowed the Impala as they reached the girl, who lowered her thumb and approached Sam's open window.

"Where you headed?" she asked, shifting the duffle on her shoulder.

"Ah, south. Central New Mexico," Sam said, staring at the girl. He estimated she was about sixteen and knew she couldn't have been older than eighteen. Short brown hair framed her face, not quite messy but it looked like it could use a cut. The duffle she had was big enough to live out of but small enough not to strain her if she needed to walk for a while. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'd be better if I was going faster than three miles an hour," she replied. "Give me a lift?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yea, sure."

The girl opened the back seat, getting in and shifting her duffle around so it sat on the seat next to her before she shut the door. Sam looked to Dean for a moment and mouthed a single word to him, a questioning, worried expression on his face.

Dean gave him a short nod and turned in his seat, looking back at her. "Can I ask…how old are you?" he asked, his green eyes slightly troubled.

"Still jail bait," she said without hesitation, her face carefully blank.

Dean blinked. "Uh _huh_. Can I ask what the Christo a girl your age is doing hitchhiking?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't have money for a car, much less a license, and public transportation leaves a trail," she said, raising an eyebrow right back at him.

Dean looked over to Sam for a second before looking back to her. "And getting rides from strangers doesn't worry you?"

"If it didn't worry me, _that_ would worry me. But the chances of running into something hitchhiking that could top the rest of my life are slim to none," she told him.

Both of Dean's eyebrows rose at that one. "O-kay," he said with a sigh. "I'm Dean. That's Sam." The girl stared at him silently. Dean nodded once. "And you don't care." He turned and faced forward, taking his foot off the brake and starting off again, turning the music back up.

Time slid by, each of the passengers in the Impala mostly silent. Though obviously curious about the girl, Sam and Dean said nothing. Sam took out a book to read after a while to pass the time. After another two hours or so passed, Dean spoke up. "Sam. Pit stop?"

"Yea," Sam replied, slipping a bookmark into his novel and setting it on the floor.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of a rest stop, parking, and each of them got out of the car, the girl taking her duffle with her. "We'll take off in like five minutes," Dean said, looking to her. "You sticking with us?"

"Yea," she replied. "I'll use the bathroom and meet you back at the car."

They walked into the small store, Sam holding the door for the teenager, and went into their respective bathrooms. Dean came out first, buying a bag of chips and soda before heading out to the car. He snacked on some as he waited. Sam came out a minute later, also with some chips and soda.

After waiting a while for the girl to come out, Sam glanced at his watch and then to Dean. "You said five minutes."

"That I did. You'd think with her attitude before that she would want to take off," Dean replied, looking over his shoulder at the small convenience store. "Want to see what's taking her?"

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yea." He got out of the car, shutting the door, and walked back inside and over to the woman's bathroom, knocking a few times. "Hey," he said, suddenly realizing he didn't know her name. "Uh, it's Sam. You in there?" He paused and, getting no response, he narrowed his eyes in confusion and knocked again. "Hello?" He opened the door a foot or so, looking in.

At first Sam didn't see anything, but as he was about to close the door, he spotted a shadow in a stall that shifted slightly. Pursing his lips, he glanced down the hall for anyone looking, and noiselessly stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut. He remained still, his back against the wall, ears pricked to hear the slightest sound.

It was another few seconds before someone spoke up. "Guess your ride's leaving," a male voice said. "So here are our options, Jasmine. We get out of here and I take you back to Iowa or I slit your throat and leave you here to bleed to death. If you think you can take me, you can go ahead and try, but I doubt you will. So you want to go with option one or option two?" Sam's heart started to beat faster. "That's the one I'd go with too. Move it."

As quietly as he could, Sam reached behind him and took out his .32 mm and waited as the stall door opened. As soon as he heard the first footstep, he walked quickly over and grabbed the girl's arm, pushing her behind himself. He took a step back as he pointed the gun at her assailant, cocking the weapon. "Don't move." The man froze, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Drop the knife. Kick it to me." The man simply stared at Sam. "Now."

Pursing his lips, the man let the knife fall from his hand and kicked it toward Sam. "Jasmine, pick that up," Sam said, not moving his eyes from the man in front of him. She did as she was told, shifting the duffle on her shoulder as she did so.

"You really don't want to get involved in this," the man said quietly.

"You're probably right," Sam replied. "But I've always been good at getting into things that are better left alone."

"You cannot possibly understand what's going on," the man told him.

Sam glared at him. "You want to give me a hint then?"

The man let out a shadow of a smile. "Sure." At that, his eyes flickered black.

Sam's eyes widened and he instinctively recoiled an inch or so. "Son of a…."

"Now look. You can shoot me with that gun all you want—," he started.

Sam didn't hesitate another second before leaping forward and slamming his fist into the man's jaw in a hard left hook, letting the gun drop to the ground. The man faltered and Sam grabbed a handful of his shirt, using the momentary astonishment to his advantage, and slammed the man's head into the ceramic toilet. "Exorcizamus te, omnis imundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestus—."

With a harsh thrust, the demon shoved Sam off of him and out of the stall and into the wall with a cry, and he fell to the ground. "Nice to meet your new friend, Jasmine. I'll tell Trevor you say hi," the demon spat. At that, with a harsh yell, the smoke flew from the man's mouth, expelled out of his body, and into a nearby air vent, disappearing.

Sam didn't hesitate before snatching his gun up from the ground and grabbing Jasmine's arm. "We gotta go," he snapped. Jasmine wasted no time dashing after Sam, past the store employee who had apparently heard what was going on, and outside.

"Dean! Let's go!" Sam yelled. Covering the ten yards to the Impala quickly, Jasmine and Sam got in. Dean, immediately upon hearing Sam's order, started the car, quickly getting them out of the rest area and back onto the highway.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"What the Hell just happened?" Dean asked, narrowed eyes looking to Sam and then Jasmine.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Sam said, leaning on the armrest and looking back to her. "Jasmine?" Jasmine was staring wide-eyed and blankly at something that was apparently very fascinating on the back of Sam's seat. Sam's eyes shut and he let out a breath of comprehension. "You didn't know what he was, did you?" he asked quietly, looking back to her. She still didn't respond. "Jasmine?"

"My name's Jaz," was all she said. It seemed like an automatic response.

Sam nodded slowly. "Jaz, I'd like to help you, but I can't do that unless you tell me what's going on," Sam told her. "Did you know why that guy was after you?"

"I-I can't," she said quietly, her gaze remaining on Sam's seat.

"Jaz," Sam said. "Look at me." Jaz forced her eyes to his. "I really want to help you if I can. I don't know what's going on here, but you're just a kid and you need to have allies against men like that guy back there. You're in way over your head. Trust me. Please, just give us a chance to help."

Jaz blinked at him slowly. "What was that you said back there?" she asked quietly. "Before…."

Sam sighed. "It was an exorcism. Well, it was the beginning of one anyway."

"Whoa, time out, rewind," Dean snapped suddenly.

"Dean, it's gone, we're safe, just keep driving and let me talk to her, okay?" Sam said in an exceedingly calm voice. Dean glared at him briefly before moving his gaze back to the road. Sam looked back to Jaz. "It figured out I was more informed than you were and it took off. Probably didn't want to waste its time. But there's a reason it wanted you. And I think you know what that is."

Jaz licked her lips anxiously and looked back to her hands and nodded. "I, ah…escaped from a mental ward two days ago."

The two young men were silent for a couple of seconds. "Why?" Sam finally spoke up.

"Because they were holding me against my will."

"You were kidnapped?" Sam asked.

"I was thrown into it a week ago," she whispered. "My younger brother was taken somewhere too. I was going to be transferred to another facility last Friday and while I was being transported I managed to get out of my restrains and out of the van without the driver noticing."

Silence once again filled the Impala. "And why exactly were you in a mental ward?" Dean asked, his voice carefully measured.

Jaz swallowed. "It was the easiest legal way to keep me under wraps and under constant observation. Because whoever took my younger brother wanted to see if I had the same abilities as him."

"Abilities?" Sam echoed.

"Yea," Jaz whispered. "Trevor can read minds…and he has visions. He…sees things. Horrible things. I didn't believe in a lot of the stuff he'd seen, I thought it was all nightmares and hallucinations during the day or whatever, but…then some of it came true and I didn't really have any right to doubt him anymore. As much as I wanted to."

The pause this time was longer. Jaz continued to stare at her hands in her lap. "Were they right?" Sam asked quietly. "Do you have any abilities?"

Jaz swallowed again, looking back up to him. "Astral projection," she whispered shakily. "It's the only reason I was able to get out of that van they were transporting me in." Sam stared at her, wide-eyed, for a few moments. Jaz took in and let out a deep breath, then closed her eyes. Sam blinked in astonishment as the air next to her shimmered for a split-second and a carbon copy of her appeared, the original Jaz slumping to the side as if she were sleeping.

"Ho-ly crap!" Dean exclaimed after glancing back to her, doing his best not to swerve the Impala off the road. With another shimmer, the twin disappeared and Jaz opened her eyes, sitting back up, and looked to Sam, apprehension clear in her eyes.

"If you turn me in," Jaz told them, staring straight into Sam's eyes, "my brother and I will be dead inside a month. Or worse." Sam's wide eyes softened exponentially as the shock drained from them and he nodded. Jaz's gaze drifted out the window. "A year ago, I wouldn't have said a word of this to you. Despite what just happened. I guess I'm just tired. Of running. Of not having any help." She looked back to Sam. "So can you tell me…why you seemed to know what do to about that guy and I didn't have a clue?"

"I have to say that us finding you is probably the luckiest thing that could have happened to you. Cause you're hitchhiking with two of the very few people out there who can help you," Sam told her. "Not to mention understand what you're going through."

Jaz blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I have visions, Jaz," Sam said quietly. "Well actually not anymore. These days it's…." He let out a long breath. "Crap, okay, looks like we're going for the whole truth here. Dean and I are what are known as hunters. We find things that are hurting people, killing people, and we stop them. Things that most people think of as nightmares. Werewolves, vampires, demons, whatever."

Jaz stared at him, stunned. "You're not just…saying all that because I told you about me," Jaz said, "are you?"

Dean let out a snort of a laugh. "That's a new one. We're telling you this crap to make you feel better. Tell you what." He pulled over to the side of the road. Sam saw Jaz tense slightly as Dean got out of the car, and also saw her right hand slide subtly into her right pocket. "Let me show you something. Come here," Dean called to her, walking around to the trunk. Sam raised an eyebrow in a question to Jaz before he got out of the car as well. Jaz hesitated for a second before getting out and following him.

Dean opened the trunk and pulled up the false bottom, sticking a shotgun up to hold it up. Jaz stared in shock at the cache of weapons in front of her. "We've got stuff as obvious as firearms and knives and stuff more subtle like herbs and salt," he said, motioning vaguely to things as he spoke. "Accelerant and matches for getting rid of spirits, weapons made of silver, brass, and iron, dead man's blood for vampires, holy water for demons, a couple grimoires and whatnot for reference, gadgets like EMF meters and black lights, down to something as simple as a lock pick. That's the basics. We've been doing this our whole lives, so I could go on. Talk about how to kill things we go after, that sort of thing. Wouldn't want to scar you even more though."

Jaz stared at the weapons in front of her, her eyes taking in each thing, and Sam and Dean stood waiting for a reaction.

"The reason we needed to tell you all this first was because _my _ability is the power to exorcise demons," Sam said quietly. "With, ah…with my mind. No exorcism needed. I just…don't do it. It's a long story."

Jaz looked up to Sam for a second before she walked a few steps away, looking out over the cornfield they'd stopped by before turning back to them. "I guess a toothpick like this wouldn't scare you guys much anyway then," she said with a sigh, pulling a switchblade out of her pocket and flicking it open smoothly.

"Sweetheart, as much crap as we've got in this trunk," Dean said, taking the shotgun down and lowering the bottom and closing it, "we're still human. We break and bleed just like anyone else. When you stop being scared of knives, that's a problem in my book. I've got no problem with you keeping that on you though. I actually make it a point to always keep one on me at all times."

Jaz looked away from Dean, closing the knife with one hand and sliding it back into her pocket. Her eyebrows came together slightly, as if she was considering something, and then she looked back to him. "So…what do you know about people with black eyes?"

"We've got some experience in that department. Can I ask what your experience with them has been, aside from ten minutes ago?" Sam asked quietly.

Jaz swallowed. "The night before they took Trevor and me, he had a dream about three men with black eyes," she said tightly. "Trevor woke up screaming. He told me they kidnapped him. Took him away from me. That as much as he yelled for me, I didn't come after them. I just lay there sleeping." Jaz blinked a few times and angrily wiped away tears. "And so I told him it was just a nightmare. That nobody would ever take him. That I'd keep him safe." She let out a harsh breath. "I said that it had to be a nightmare. That it didn't make any sense because if he screamed for me, I would help him." Jaz looked back up to the boys. "I guess I didn't take being sedated first into consideration."

Sam and Dean stared at Jaz for a moment in shock before Sam let out a long breath of incredulity, trying to figure out what to say.

Dean found his voice first in a low mutter of, "Holy crap." He ran a hand over his face for a second. "Okay, so you said there were three guys?" he asked. "Did Trevor say anything else? Any other dreams about it?"

"Nothing," Jaz said quietly. "What does it mean? Who are they?"

Dean glanced to Sam for a second before looking back to Jaz. "Black eyes is the most common indication of possession," he said tensely. "They were demons."

Jaz let out a sharp breath of disbelief. "Demons. My brother was kidnapped by _demons_?" she snapped.

"That's what it sounds like, yea," Sam said. "Where were you headed? Do you know where he is?"

Jaz opened her mouth for a second, eyes darting around for a second before closed her mouth and swallowed. She nodded. "Yea," she said softly. "I-I managed to find some documents…in the files they keep in the ward. I found one on my brother. He was there for like three days before he was transferred and—." Jaz's voice caught in a hitch in her breath and she covered her mouth with her hand as she let out a sob. "Oh God, Trevor."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Sam told her, quickly clearing the distance between them and putting an arm around her shoulder, half for comfort and half to make sure her legs didn't give out underneath her. "We'll get him back. I promise, we'll get him back. Okay?"

Jaz took a few moments to breathe and looked up to meet Sam, fire in her eyes. "What do they want with him?" she whispered. "What do they want with _me_?"

Sam's expression tightened. "I don't know," he said quietly. "But we'll get him out, alright? I promise."

Jaz looked down to her feet and nodded, wiping her face, and walked back to the car, letting Sam's hand slide from her shoulder. Sam saw that her hands were shaking for a moment before she clenched them into fists. "We should get going," she said. Sam pursed his lips, hearing a familiar tone in her voice. She was pushing herself past anything that seemed horrible and scary to keep moving forward. He heard it in Dean's voice often and also in his own. Jaz looked to Dean. "How long will it take us to get to Texas?"

Dean pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "Probably about ten hours. You can fill us in and we'll come up with a game plan," he said, heading back to the driver's seat. Jaz nodded before getting back in the car, as did Sam, and they took off.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"Trevor's ten years old. Being six years older than him, I've always taken care of him," Jaz said, staring out the window. "I never knew my dad. He took off early. Trevor's actually my half-brother. I guess my mom had a talent for finding fathers that wouldn't stick around. My mom…left something to be desired when it came to motherhood. I wouldn't hesitate to call us white trash, or at least she was. We lived in a trailer park; that was all she could afford. I was pretty good at keeping the place together. Keeping Trevor fed and the place clean. We went to school, kept our heads down to keep off of CPS's radar."

"When Trevor's ability started up, he came to me first. He was eight. I was fourteen. He's a smart kid and…." Jaz let out a shadow of a smile. "Actually one of the first things he said was that he knew that something like this would raise our chances of catching the attention of someone. At first it was just flickers of thoughts he'd catch. Then it developed into reading thoughts whenever he wanted to. Then the nightmares started, and then the visions during the day. Eventually he didn't like to touch people. Even me. He said it was overwhelming. Like he had two brains inside his head. So he wears gloves, long sleeves, pants, whenever he goes out. But mostly he just stays in."

"My mom didn't want to deal with him. She just…didn't deal with anything very well. When she started talking about sending him away or calling CPS _for our own good_," Jaz said, saying in no uncertain terms what she thought about that statement, "I started to get worried. It didn't take long to decide that we needed to get out of there. If we went into foster care they'd split us up and Trevor wouldn't be able to make it without me. Not with what he goes through every day."

"We lived in New York City for a while. Not hard to live there under the radar and the homeless tend to protect their own, so we didn't have to worry about being turned in. I worked under the table for this guy who ran a pawnshop. I kept the two of us going and still managed to save up some money. When I hit sixteen, I got emancipated and got a P.O. box so I'd have an address, got an apartment, and started working at a Walmart and a Barnes and Noble. After two months working, I must have caught someone's eye and was confronted by some people from CPS. Being sixteen and emancipated, though, they couldn't make me go back to my mother, and I told them that I didn't know where Trevor was. I knew that I just had to make it to eighteen and I could submit a request for custody."

"We were doing fine. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. But two weeks ago I came back to the apartment and Trevor said that he'd been having bad feelings all day. I comforted him, told him not to worry. So he didn't. Then all this happened."

Sam and Dean were silent for a few moments before Dean spoke up. "I've got to hand it to you, kid. You're one tough chick to make it this far."

Jaz pursed her lips, not looking to him. "Thanks."

"Okay, so it looks like you somehow got noticed and they grabbed your brother, put you on ice, and then two days ago planned on taking you somewhere else?" Dean asked.

"That's what I gathered, yea."

"Do you know how they managed to get the mental ward to take you? Did they dummy up some paperwork or something?"

"Yea. I found it in my file," she replied. "Apparently my _father_ thought I was a danger to myself and others, mainly because of hallucinations I'd had and things I'd do when I acted out."

"Okay. Where's your brother at exactly?"

"Crowell, Texas," she replied. "The medical file said he'd gone to a place in Dallas, but…he told me he was sent to Crowell Mental Ward for Children."

Dean glanced back at her. "He told you?"

Jaz let out a long breath and finally looked to Dean. "He contacted me somehow. While I was asleep. Seemed like it took a lot of effort and was really difficult for him, but he told me he was in Crowell. Not in a ward, he said. In some abandoned building. He said…." Jaz swallowed past a lump in her throat. "He said they were hurting him."

Dean sighed tightly. "So there were three guys that took you and Trevor a week ago. You know anything else about them?" he asked.

"No. I don't know who they are. I don't know what they want. All I know is that if they hurt my brother, they're as good as dead."

"That's a great philosophy, and cut and dry killing them is always a plan I'm willing to go with, simple, easy to remember, but with demons it's a little complicated. You can't just out and out kill a demon."

Jaz looked to him with narrowed eyes. "How do we go up against them then?"

"Okay, first of all, _we _are not gonna do anything. Sam and I are going to assess the situation, come up with a plan, get backup if we need to, and get your brother out," Dean told her.

"Like Hell!" Jaz exclaimed. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you are _not_," he said firmly. "Listen, you've got less than no experience dealing with demons. You coming with us just gives us one more person we have to worry about. It will be a lot better if we do things our way. You trying to help is a good way of getting all of us killed, and that isn't going to help Trevor."

Jaz clenched her teeth together, staring out the window. "Fine."

"Alright. For future notice, how does the astral projection thing work?" Dean asked.

"Either I need to see where I'm ending up or I need to have been there before so I know where I'm ending up," Jaz replied. "I'm somehow solid when I'm in another form, but it's a weird feeling. Hard to describe. I can be hurt, but when I go back to my regular body it doesn't transfer. I don't know what would happen if I died though. Never tried experimenting with that. It's a little too permanent."

"Good to know," Dean replied.

Jaz hesitated. "When we get him out…could they find us again?" she asked quietly.

Dean sighed, shifting his grip on the wheel. He noticed she said _when _and not _if_, and he was glad for her confidence. "Honestly, we don't know how they found you in the first place, so I'm not sure. We'll see what we can find out once we get there, go from there."

Jaz nodded, fidgeting nervously with her hands. "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Hey, Jaz, wakie wakie," Dean sighed, turning around in his seat. Jaz was spread across the back seat of the Impala, her arm folded under her head, breath coming evenly as she slept. Dean reached back and gently shook her. "Hey—."

Jaz's hand shot up and grabbed Dean's wrist as her eyes flashed open. Dean simply raised an eyebrow questioningly. Jaz let go abruptly, pushing herself up. "Sorry. We here?"

"Ya. Stay here. I'll get us a room." He paused. "You okay with one room?"

"I'm a little short on money. One room's fine," she replied.

"No, it's okay, if you want two rooms, Sammy and I can spring for it," Dean told her.

Jaz smiled slyly. "Ever the gentleman. One room's fine, thanks."

Dean smiled in return and nodded. "Alright. Be right back." He got out and walked through the parking lot and to the front desk.

Stretching her arms, Jaz let out a sigh. "What time is it?"

Sam checked his watch. "About ten-thirty."

Jaz let out a small grunt, looking over to Sam. "Crap. I knew I shouldn't have slept in the car. I'll have a Hell of a time falling asleep tonight."

"You were only asleep for like four hours," Sam told her. "Another six will be fine. I'm going to put in a call to Bobby, see what he's got so far, and do some research of my own tonight. We'll see what we come up with."

With a nod of agreement from Jaz, the two waited until Dean came back with two room keys. They lugged their stuff into the motel room and Jaz showered first, getting into her pajamas, and came back into the room. Dean was on the laptop and Sam was talking on the phone, a pad of paper in front of him with notes on it and a pencil in his hand. Jaz waited and listened as she towel-dried her hair.

"…Okay. You check up on abandoned buildings nearby?" Sam asked, continuing to write on the pad of paper. He paused, nodding as whoever was on the phone replied, and jotted down a couple more things. "Yea, that sounds promising. We'll check them out, see what we come up with." He paused again. "Yea, no, it'd take you a good sixteen hours at least to get down here. Ah…you know of anyone close by that we could trust with this sort of thing?" He nodded a few times again. "Okay. We'll see what we're up against and I'll call you if we need backup." Sam smiled as he listened to the voice on the other line. "Yea, Bobby, I know. We'll be careful, I promise." The smile faded as Bobby said something else. "That's a last resort, Bobby. We probably won't need her help. We've got the knife, anyway." Sam missed the glared that Dean gave to his brother's back, but Jaz caught it. "Alright. Talk to you later." Sam closed the cell phone.

"What'd he say?" Jaz asked, hanging the towel over a chair.

"There's definitely signs of demonic activity in the area," Sam said, speaking to both Jaz and Dean, "just nothing that's raised any flags. No deaths or anything, just omens. Bobby dug around and found four likely buildings that the demons would be at. I've got the addresses here," he said, tapping the pad of paper with his pencil. "I'm going to do some research on them, dig up some floor plans if I can, a history, that sort of thing. We'll check them out first thing tomorrow. Chances are we'll find them, but if not we'll go back and see what we missed. If we do find them, as soon as it gets dark we'll go in and get him out."

Jaz shifted her weight on her feet and nodded, looking away. "Okay."

"Jaz, we will find him, but we're gonna go in smart," Sam said quietly.

"I know, I know," she said tightly. She looked back to him. "Who's the last resort?"

Sam's expression seemed to close off and he glanced over to Dean briefly. "Get some sleep, Jaz. You can take that bed. Dean and I will chance the other one." Jaz narrowed her eyes in confusion. Sam smiled. "Rock, paper, scissors."

Jaz let out a half smile. "Uh huh." She let out a small breath, looking from Sam to Dean and shrugged. "Fine keep your air of mystery," she said, walking over to her bed. "But if it does come down to it, I don't want to leave anything to chance. If this last resort could help us, you call them. I don't want to take any chances with my brother's life."

Sam met Jaz's firm eyes and nodded once. "Alright."

Climbing into the bed and under the covers, Jaz reached over and picked up the book she'd put on the bedside table, opening it to where she'd left the bookmark. She looked up briefly, subtly, through her eyelashes at the two young men, quirking a dismissive eyebrow and letting out a silent sigh as she started the novel.

"Jaz?"

"Yea?" she asked, glancing up.

"If we do run into anything tomorrow, is there a, ah…code word or something that I could tell Trevor so he knows we're with you?" Sam asked. "He might be scared, confused, and I want him to know we're there to help."

Jaz's face tightened and she nodded. "Yea. Tell him Perseus."

Sam smiled slightly. "Perseus. Nice."

Jaz gave him a flicker of a smile before looking back to her book. Sam noticed that she stared blankly at the first page for about ten minutes before she actually turned the page.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! Glad you're liking the story so far!**

Chapter 5:

"Lemme see," Dean said, holding his hand out. Sam handed the floor plans to the building across the street over to his brother and he took another hard look at them. "Okay," Dean said after a minute. "Let's cross our fingers and hope we find something to bring back to Jaz."

Sam nodded once and took back the floor plans, folding them up and sticking them in the dashboard compartment. "Ah, Dean?"

Dean stopped, his hand on the door handle. "What?"

Sam hesitated. "If it does end up being too much for us to handle—."

"Sam," Dean growled.

"If she can help us—."

"Look, I don't like her, I don't trust her, but yes, if this turns out to be more than we can handle, we _will _call Ruby," he said. "She's not my favorite person—," he stopped, "—_demon_—," he sighed, "—dude, I'm not gonna put my pride over Trevor's life, alright?"

Sam's expression softened slightly. "Okay."

The two checked over everything they were carrying, including their holy water squirt guns, a .41 Magnum Desert Eagle, which held consecrated wrought iron rounds on the off chance they would affect the demons or if they came upon trouble of the human variety, a can of spray paint in case they had the opportunity to put up some devil's traps, and Dean with the knife in his jacket pocket. Walking across the street, Sam and Dean walked down the block, scanning the building for any signs of occupancy.

Once they'd gone over the building, seeing no indications of use, they went to the second and then the third on their list. After getting a good look around the area, Sam picked the lock on a back door of the third building while Dean stood guard. Opening the door, the two slipped inside. Forgoing flashlights for the moment, in case doing so would give away their position, they relied only on light from windows and the emergency lights and started down the hallway. Dean stuck one ear bud from the EMF meter in his ear, keeping the volume low so any sudden surge wouldn't startle him, and left the meter in his pocket to keep his hands free.

After quietly searching the above ground floors and the first basement, they took the stairs down to the second basement, presumably used for storage. As soon as Dean opened the door out of the stairwell, the EMF meter spiked. He stopped, motioning Sam back, and closed the door. He opened his jacket to show Sam the lit-up EMF and shut it off, taking the ear bud out and tucking it in his pocket.

Reopening the door, Dean slid into the musty hallway and slipped the knife out of his pocket, Sam carefully closing the door behind them. Walking slowly and quietly, eyes peeled for the slightest motion, Dean's eyes narrowed at a barely audible buzzing sound. Once they reached the end of the hallway, he realized what it was: fluorescent lights. Kneeling down beside the door, he realized there was a little light coming out from under it. There was either someone down there now or there had been.

Dean stood back up and looked to Sam, tilting his head slightly to the door and raising an eyebrow in a question: Go in now or come back later? Sam pursed his lips and motioned for Dean to go to the other side of the door. Dean did so, taking out the knife, and Sam took out one of the water guns. Sam tried the doorknob and nodded to Dean that it was open.

Sam mouthed _three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

Swinging the door open, Sam burst in first, swinging up his weapon and scanning the room, moving to his left to give Dean full view as well. It only took him a moment to take in everything.

There was one person to their right, sitting in a chair, whose eyes had darted up in surprise at the entrance. There was also a second standing in a lab coat in the center of the small room in a lab coat and Latex gloves, next to what looked like an operating table. On the table was a ten-year-old boy, who was staring at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, hooked up to several machines. Sam's chest tightened at the sight of him, but didn't let it hamper his reflexes or actions.

The man who had been sitting against the wall jumped up at the intrusion, shouting out, "Hey!" as Sam sprayed holy water directly at the man, sending him fumbling backwards with a cry, and at the second man as well. However, the second man just stared at Sam in shock, not reacting to the holy water with anything but sputtering surprise as some got in his mouth.

Dean was quickly in the room and slid the blade into the throat of the demon, twisting it as it sparked and yanked it out. He turned to the other man, who Sam had darted over to, sliding the holy water gun back into his jacket and taking out the Glock instead.

Sam shoved the man up against the wall, an arm against his chest and the gun under his chin. "Who are you?" he snapped.

"P-P-Please, I-I didn't want to," the man sobbed, tears suddenly forming on his eyelids and slipping down his face. "D-Don't kill me! Please-Please don't kill me!" The man closed his eyes. "Oh God, oh God," he whispered.

"Sam I don't think he's in on it," Dean said, wiping the knife off on his jeans before sticking it back in his pocket.

"Yea?"

"Well, the dude just wet his pants."

Sam looked down and grimaced, drawing back a couple feet, but kept the gun on the man, who meekly opened his eyes. "Dean, Trevor."

"Got it," Dean said, already moving to the young boy's side. He realized that the boy's pulse was racing, his eyes looking up to Dean's full of fear, and he was whimpering every time he exhaled. "Trevor, it's okay," he said, carefully sidling up to him. "You're safe. Jaz sent us. She said…Perseus. Okay?" he asked. Trevor's eyebrows twitched slightly and then his eyes closed as he stopped whimpering, his breath gradually slowing. "He's got like three machines and three IVs hooked up to him. What'd you do to him?" Dean asked angrily, looking to the doctor.

"I-It was just tests," the man stuttered. "My-My name's Doctor Harvey Carlton. I-I work at…a hospital in Wichita Falls." It was then that Sam caught sight of the medical badge hanging from the man's lab coat. "They-They grabbed me like…three days ago…brought me here. They-They said if I didn't do wh-what they wanted, they'd kill me. Kill my wife, my daughter. I-I just did what they told me. They…brought me food, brought the boy food…. I-I saw their eyes turn _black_. I mean fully, totally—."

"Yea, we already got that part," Dean snapped. "Any drugs in his system? Any repercussions from the tests you did?"

"I-I don't think so. I-I mean he was different…every day I came back in. Like…they were doing something else. I don't know. I just…you're here to help him?" Dr. Carlton asked warily.

"Well _you_ weren't really doing a great job," Dean muttered. "Can I take these IVs out?"

"Let-Let me do it," he said. He stopped before he moved toward the boy though, eyeing the gun in Sam's hand. Sam sighed and lowered the gun and Dr. Carlton carefully went to the boy, taking out the IVs. "He's…sedated. Muscle paralytic. Otherwise he-he jerks at any human contact and…Latex gloves don't seem to be thick enough to hamper that."

"Yea, we know that," Dean said softly. "How long before it wears off?"

"Probably…half an hour."

"Okay. You know when the others are gonna be back?"

Dr. Carlton glanced at his watch. "Should be…in about an hour," he said, turning off the machines and taking the pulse monitor off Trevor's finger, among other things. "They tell me what they want me to do and…give me six hours a day to do it. They, ah…get back at three."

Dean put on the pair of black gloves he had in his pocket as Dr. Carlton finished. Sam took his jacket off and carefully wrapped Trevor in it, since he was only wearing a hospital gown, before Dean picked him up. "There we go," he murmured. "We're gonna bring you back to Jaz, okay?" Trevor didn't say anything; he just looked up at Dean for a moment before he closed his eyes.

"We're out of here," Sam said, tucking the gun in the small of his back and letting his shirt fall over it, glancing to the doctor. "Come on." Dr. Carlton looked slightly startled for a moment, but didn't hesitate to go with Sam and Dean up the stairs. "How many were there?" Sam asked.

"Uh…there was the one…in the basement…and-and two more that come back at three," Dr. Carlton said.

"Dean, if we've got an hour—."

"Yea, get on your cell, call the cell we left Jaz with, tell her we're on our way back. We'll leave Trevor with her and come back here," Dean said.

As they walked out the front door of the building, Sam turned and stopped, facing Dr. Carlton, who abruptly came to a halt himself. "We're going to come back to see if we can get the other two guys, okay? You need to wait until _3:30_ to call 911. We'll be gone by the time they get here. With any luck, there'll be two more bodies, so just say that when we got there, you took off running, didn't see anything else. Understand?"

Dr. Carlton blinked. "What?"

Sam sighed in annoyance. "Look at it this way. Do you want the other two guys to come back to police here and take off, leaving them free to go kill you and your family?" The doctor visibly paled. "That's what I thought. Look, go over to that building there, hide out back, by the dumpsters or something, and wait until your watch reads 3:30 PM to dial 911, okay?" Dr. Carlton nodded once stiffly. "Do us a favor if you could; don't give the sketch artists much to go on when they ask about us?" Sam asked.

"Ah…yea…sure, of course," Dr. Carlton managed to get out. "I-I just…those men—."

"Unless you want to sound like a wacko, I'd leave out the black eyes part," Sam told him. At that, he turned and went after Dean, who was already halfway to the car.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Dean shut the back door to the Impala, Trevor in the backseat wrapped in Dean's jacket, and got into the driver's seat as Sam took shotgun. Sam took out his cell phone as Dean took off.

There was barely one ring before it was answered. "_Yea?_" asked a voice quickly on the other end.

"We've got him, Jaz. He's okay," Sam said, glancing back to Trevor.

Sam heard a full second of shocked silence and then Jaz let out a small sob. "_Oh my God_," she breathed. She let out a breath of relief. "_Oh thank God._"

"Listen, we're on our way back. We'll be there in like ten minutes. You'll stay with Trevor. We've got to take off back to the place he was being held so we can take care of a few more things. Okay?" Sam asked.

"_Yea, okay_," Jaz whispered. "_He-He's really okay? He's not hurt? Did he say anything?_"

"He didn't say anything, but that doesn't mean much. He's drugged right now, some sort of muscle paralytic, but it should wear off in about half an hour."

Sam heard the soft hitch in Jaz's breath. "_Okay_."

"We'll be there soon."

"_Okay. Thank you_."

"No problem," Sam said quietly.

Dean drove quickly back to the motel, pulling up in front of their room, and Jaz opened the door just as he put the car in park. Her eyes were slightly red and she stared at the car as Dean went into the backseat and gently took Trevor out, carrying him to the room. Jaz numbly moved aside as he walked over and laid him down on the bed.

Jaz already had gloves on, Dean noticed, and was wearing long sleeves and pants. She sat down next to Trevor, laying a hand gently on the side of his face. "Trevor? Sweetheart?" she whispered. Jaz brushed some hair from his face as his eyes fluttered open. Dean heard her let out an astonished breath. "Trevor, it's Jaz. You're okay. You're safe now. Don't try to move; you were given something. It should fade in about twenty minutes though, okay?" She let out another shaky breath and took his hand in hers. "God, I love you so much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Jaz, we've gotta motor," Dean said quietly. Jaz looked up to him and nodded. "Salt line by the door and windows is still good, I checked, and you're set with holy water and the gun. If he's hungry, just the saltines and Sprite and water. We'll be back in an hour or two."

"Okay," she said. He turned to leave. "Dean." Dean glanced back at her, his hand on the doorknob. "Thank you," she whispered. He gave her a tight smile and closed the door as he left.

Jaz turned back to Trevor, letting out a soft sigh. She stared into his tired, worried blue eyes. "Everything's okay. We're gonna be okay." She climbed onto the bed next to him and put a hand on his arm, settling in beside him. "Close your eyes, honey. Just rest," she said, gently rubbing his arm. "I'll be here when you wake up." Trevor blinked at her once slowly before he closed his eyes. Jaz angled her arm against the pillow, resting her head on it, as the tightness in her chest she'd felt for the last two weeks finally started to melt away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam waited down the hall, in the room where Trevor had been kept, silent but ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. Dean was waiting at the other end of the hall in the shadows of the corner, behind where the door from the stairwell would open, the knife in his hand. The devil's trap was spray-painted on the ceiling immediately to the left, covering the width of the hallway from left to right, maximizing the chances of both demons being caught in it. There was also another directly outside the room Sam was in and one above Dean, just for a precaution.

Dean had just glanced at his watch again, which read 2:55, when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The hollow echoing gradually grew louder and the door finally opened. The two demons went to the left, straight into the devil's trap. They had just realized what had happened, both crying out angrily, when Dean leapt forward, plunging the knife into the back of the demon closest to him, swinging an arm around his neck and pulling him backwards. The man stopped at the edge of the devil's trap as if hitting a wall, holding there for a moment before the demon died, and the body of the dead host fell back into Dean.

"No!" screamed the other demon furiously, leaping at Dean and slamming his fist into the invisible wall.

Dean let the body of the dead man fall to the ground and took a few breaths. "Sam!" he called. Sam emerged from the door down the hall, walking over to the demon, stopping at the other side of the trap.

"Hunters," the demon growled, something wicked sharpening the edge of its voice. "Where's the boy?"

"Safe," Dean replied quietly. "What did you want with him?"

The black eyes turned on Dean, a smirk gracing his face. "What makes you think I'll tell you?"

The demon cried out, pulling away and falling to the ground, putting up an arm to defend himself as Sam splashed holy water on him. "I don't know," Sam said casually. "Maybe you're just in a good mood." Curling his upper lip at Sam, his eyes narrowed, he spat at Sam's feet. Sam pursed his lips and dumped the rest of the holy water on his head. The demon howled and tried to draw away and cover his head, but the trap kept him confined.

Letting out a low growl that was barely human, he raised his eyes to Sam's. "Go screw yourself," he snarled.

"Actually, we're here to make you an offer," Dean said, cocking his head slightly. "See the pretty knife?" he asked, motioning slightly in the air. "_This_ knife is going in _your _throat unless you tell us what you wanted with Trevor."

The demon let out a short laugh. "You expect me to believe you'll let me go if I tell you what we wanted?"

Dean grinned. "Ah, you know us better than that. No, you get to choose between the knife and an exorcism. Gives us something to bargain with."

The black eyes looked back and forth between Sam and Dean for a moment. "You've got me here locked in here," he growled. "Why would I believe that you'd kill the host instead of doing an exorcism anyway?"

Dean crouched down to the demon's level, though he was careful to stay a foot away from the edge of the circle. "I really want to kill you," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You kept that boy here for days…helpless…not knowing if he was going to live or die…tortured by whatever Hell you put him through. I _want_ to make sure that you can never hurt another human being…ever again. I _want_ to make sure that those kids are safe from another one of the things that would come after them. And I'm willing to kill this guy to do it. But if you cough up what you guys were up to, it's worth it as long as I get to send you back to Hell."

The demon looked to Sam for a moment, then back to Dean. "You know what the drawbacks of being a demon are? It's crap like this," he told Dean, not waiting for an answer, motioning to the devil's trap above him. "It's the exorcisms and the holy water and the salt and iron that keeps most of us out of places you're in or keeps us in, trapped. And you know the only way a demon gets around all of that?"

Dean pursed his lips. "You wanted Trevor for yourself."

"We wanted to find out what we was capable of first," the demon said. "That's what this last week's been about. We had the sister waiting for her turn, but on her way here she managed to get away from the idiots driving the van. The two that you killed." He briefly looked down the hall. "I'm assuming you killed the other one."

"Oh he's real dead," Dean replied. "How'd you know about her and her brother anyway?"

"Luck," he replied. Then he smirked. "For us, not for the kids. The girl was working at this pawnshop and I walked in wearing some pimp. I just needed to get some fast money without attracting attention; whole other story. Anyway, she felt different. Off. So I tailed her back to her place and found the brother, who felt _way _off. We figured the boy was more likely to give up what he could do, so we took him first and watched her in the mental ward through security cameras. But she never showed any sign of having any ability, so I don't know how she got out."

Dean pursed his lips. He figured that was because when Jaz used her ability, there was no visible sign except her falling asleep, unless you count the clone of her forming somewhere else. From her description before, he assumed that she could pop up wherever she wanted, which was most likely far away from the mental ward. "Aside from the drugs and the other crap the doctor was pulling, what else were you doing?" Dean asked, his voice tight.

The demon smiled slyly. "Our own types of tests. Of his abilities. How he'd developed them so far. He told us everything easy enough, but we wanted to push him farther to see how much better he could get. We've been breaking him down to build him back up." He shrugged. "Can't have a soldier that won't obey orders."

Dean felt a burning in the pit of his stomach as he gnashed his teeth together. He forced himself to relax slightly. "Soldier," he echoed.

"Yea, we figured Azazel had a pretty good idea with that one," he said, glancing up to Sam for a moment, then back to Dean. "But as you can see, he didn't do a good enough job with just the demon blood. It would take training to actually have a human on our side that would take orders." He smirked. "Worth it though."

"And your boss? Who do you and the other lackeys answer to?" Dean asked, lacing a hint of insult into his voice.

The demon narrowed its eyes almost angrily, leaning toward Dean. "I take orders from _no one_. This was _my _operation."

"And it woulda worked if it wasn't for us meddling kids, huh?" Dean muttered, raising an eyebrow.

The demon gave Dean a wicked smile. "Oh yes. You'd be surprised what I can do. If I wasn't in here, I'd have made you wish you were back in Hell," he snarled.

The side of Dean's mouth twitched slightly and he looked up to Sam. "You got any more questions?"

"Nah, I'm good," Sam said.

Dean nodded and didn't hesitate before thrusting the knife forward and into the throat of the man in front of him. Wide, shocked eyes stared back at him as sparks spouted from his mouth and he slumped to the side. Dean yanked the knife back, wiping it on his jeans before turning away from the dead man. "Let's go." Sam followed him up the stairs and out to the Impala.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Dean parked the car and got out, shoving the keys into his pocket with a sigh, and took out the room key. Opening the door, he walked in. "Hey," he said softly, holding the door open for Sam as his eyes landed on the two sleeping children on the bed.

Jaz's eyes opened and looked to him. To their surprise, Trevor's eyes flew open at the sounds and he cried out in surprise, jumping off the bed and shoving his back into the corner, shaking, his arms folded tightly around the hospital gown.

Jaz's eyes widened at the sight. "Trevor! Trevor, it's okay," she said quickly, going over and crouching in front of him. "Trevor!" The young boy blinked a few times, recognition flickering in his eyes as he slid down to the ground, letting out a small sob.

"Jaz?" he whispered.

"Yea, Trev. It's me." Jaz leaned forward, cupping his face in her hand and taking his hand with her other. "It's me, honey. I said I'd come get you, remember? You told me where you were. I promised I'd come get you." Trevor's eyes slid uneasily to Sam and Dean, who had frozen in place, worried that they would scare the boy even more. Sam finally, slowly, closed the door. "They're with us," Jaz whispered, not moving her gaze from her brother. "That's Sam and Dean. They helped me. They got you out. You remember?"

Trevor swallowed and nodded, looking the boys over before he looked back to Jaz. "Hurt me," he whimpered, tears slipping down his face. "Black eyes…."

Jaz's face contorted in anguish as she blinked back tears of her own. "I know," she whispered. "I'm so…so sorry."

Trevor's lower lips quivered as his grip on her hand tightened. "In my head…in my head and I can't…I can't get them out. It hurt…. And Jaz doesn't love me. All alone. Trevor's all alone…."

Jaz let out a sob. "No…. No, Trevor's not alone. I'm right here, honey. I'm right here." She brushed some hair behind his ear, swallowing hard. "They lied. It was all lies. I love you…so much. So, so much." Trevor's eyes drifted up to meet his sister's eyes and she gave him a shaky smile. She saw a bit of acknowledgement in his expression before his eyes slid back down to the ground. "You hungry, Trev?" Trevor nodded. Jaz looked to Dean and he nodded, going over to the bag of stuff he'd picked up and taking out some crackers and the soda, bringing them over to the two kids. He approached carefully, not wanting to frighten Trevor any more.

"Thanks," she whispered. Jaz took the soda and put it on the floor before taking the crackers, keeping one gloved hand in Trevor's. She turned back and handed him the crackers, which he took and slowly ate. After drinking some soda, Jaz paused for a second. "You should take a shower," she said quietly. "Looks like you haven't in at least a week. Come on." She helped Trevor to his feet and led him to the bathroom, grabbing the duffle on the way, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Jesus Christ," Dean breathed, ruffling his hair slightly as he walked over and fell into a chair.

"No kidding," Sam murmured. He paused. "The demons are dead, but…."

"Yea. Assuming that last one was telling the truth, we didn't leave any loose ends, but they could still pop up on something's radar. They need to at least learn how to protect themselves."

Sam nodded, considering something for a moment. "You think…. You think Ellen could take them in? I mean it's just until Jaz turns eighteen. Then she can get custody. But like you said, they need to learn how to protect themselves."

Dean nodded, letting out a sigh. "It's not a bad idea," he said, pushing himself to his feet and taking out his cell. "It's a big favor, but it's worth a try to give her a call. Who knows? Maybe she's even got some hand-me-downs for Jaz."

Sam smiled slightly. "Yea."

Dean selected the number in his phone book and waited as it rang.

"_Harvelle's Roadhouse_," a voice answered after a few rings.

"Ellen. Hey, it's Dean."

"_Dean, it's been a while since I heard your voice. How've you boys been?_" she asked.

"It's not all lollypops and candy canes, but we're getting by," he replied. "How're things going at the new and improved Roadhouse?"

"_Pretty good. Took a while to get money together to rebuild, but I had quite a few helping hands getting it up and running. It's doing fine these days. You guys going to be driving through? It'd be nice to see your faces_."

"Actually, we might be. I ah…. You're one of only a couple people we'd trust with this. We wanted to ask if you could do us a favor."

"_Yea, sure_," she replied.

Dean smiled. "Well, I haven't told you what it is yet."

Ellen paused and Dean could almost feel her eyes narrowing. "_What'd you boys go and do now?_" she asked.

"It's kind of a long story. Short version is, there's this girl, she's sixteen, and she's got a younger brother who's ten. They got noticed by some demons and were snatched. The girl, Jaz, got away and we helped her find her brother. They're both here now, both safe, unhurt." Dean cringed slightly. "Well, her brother's actually real messed up. I don't know exactly what they did to him, but…."

"_Jesus_," Ellen murmured.

"Yea. Anyway, they need a safe place to be at for a while and learn how to protect themselves from future surprises in the middle of the night and such."

"_Of course. I've got Jo's old bedroom; they can stay there. How long they need to stay?_"

"Ah…like a year and a half?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

There was a pause. "_A year and a half_," Ellen echoed. Then she sighed. "_You said she's sixteen_," she said, understanding creeping into her tone.

"Yea. She'll wait until she hits eighteen and then get custody. She's a tough girl, made it the last two years with her brother, supporting the two of them, working under the table. I'm sure she'd be happy to work at the Roadhouse. You could probably use the extra set of hands."

Ellen paused again. "_You said they got _noticed_ by demons. There something you're not telling me?_" she asked.

"Yea, actually. That's the reason I don't really trust anyone else with this. They both have, ah…abilities. Jaz's isn't something that causes her much trouble, astral projection and she has full control, but Trevor…. He reads minds, has premonitions…. And I don't know what the demons did to the kid, but he's…real skittish," Dean said quietly. "Scared of his own shadow. Took him a second to recognize his own sister." Ellen let out a long breath. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask and it's risky on your part, but I just don't know where else they could go."

"_I know_," Ellen murmured. "_Of course. They're welcome here, Dean. The girl can work off $200 a month for me and save the rest up. That'll include food, rent, everything. They'll be as safe in my house as anywhere else. It's got a solid, built up threshold, plenty of wards, and plenty of weapons. And I can teach them the basics so they'll be ready when they go off on their own. Whenever that is_," she added. "_I'm not gonna be kicking them out on their behinds the day she turns eighteen_."

Dean's lips twitched in a smile. "Thanks Ellen. I owe you one."

"_Yea, yea. When should I expect you guys? You aren't out in the parking lot or something, are you?_"

Dean let out a short laugh. "No, we're down in Texas. It'll be a couple of days at least."

"_Alright. I'll see if I can get a bunk bed or something off freecycle. Put it in Jo's old room_."

"Sounds awesome. I'll call you when we get close."

"_Okay. Stay safe, Dean_."

"Always." Dean hung up and exchanged a relieved smile with Sam before he went over to the bag of stuff he'd picked up that morning and took out a bag of peanut M&M's.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Twenty-four hours later the Impala was driving north out of Texas, headed to Nebraska. Trevor was dressed in some clothes that Jaz had had for him in her duffle and they also picked up some more clothes for him at a local Salvation Army: shirts, pants, socks, and pajamas, as well as some sneakers. They got him some new underwear at a local Walmart.

They'd driven three hours the day they'd found Trevor, just to get out of the area, but then stopped and stayed at another motel overnight. Jaz and Trevor shared a bed and Sam got the other, since Dean had gotten it the night before. The brothers were glad that the kids had shared a bed since in the middle of the night Trevor woke up screaming.

Jaz had instantly turned on the light, as had Sam, and Dean had grabbed his bowie knife off the table beside him. "Trevor! Trevor, it's okay! It's okay, I'm here," she said, taking him by the shoulders. Dean had been surprised to see her go to bed the night before with her gloves on and now he knew why she'd done so. Trevor grabbed onto Jaz's forearms, which were covered by long sleeves, tears in his eyes and his breath coming quickly, holding tightly as he stared into her eyes. It gave Dean the impression that, even before the demonic kidnapping, there had been nightmares; they'd done this before, presumably with the visions. "I'm here. You're safe," Jaz whispered, calming him down. Trevor's anxiety slowly subsided, leaving him simply tired, and he lay back down. Jaz turned the light off, resting her hand on his arm until they both fell back to sleep.

Dean made a mental note: Tell Ellen about nightmares.

They divided the trip into two days, six hours of driving each, since Jaz and Trevor would probably get restless if it was more than that. Surprisingly, they didn't get a single, 'Are we there yet?' or similar questions, which was more than Sam and Dean could say for themselves at that age. Or any age, really. It got very boring in a car very fast when you had only each other to talk to or even, if you were lucky, with a book to read or Mad-Libs.

They arrived at the Roadhouse on a Friday evening, so it was decently busy. Jaz held Trevor's gloved hand in hers, which he gripped back tightly, wary of the new place and unfamiliar people, most of them not exactly oozing friendliness, and Sam and Dean entered after them. Ellen was taking an order from someone and saw the four walk in, gave them a quick wave, and finished up before walking over.

"Hey boys," she said with a smile.

"Ellen, how've you been?" Sam asked, giving her a brief hug.

Ellen gave a hug to Dean as well. "Not too bad. You can head on into the back," she said, motioning to a door to the left of the bar. "I'll put fill this order and be right with you."

Dean nodded and motioned the kids forward. They each went into the back of the saloon, taking a seat on a worn plaid couch and some chairs, Jaz beside Trevor on the couch since letting go of her hand didn't seem like a realistic option at that point. A minute or so later, Ellen walked in, closing the door behind herself. "Alright. So, Jaz and Trevor, I'm assuming," she said, walking over.

Jaz held out her hand and shook Ellen's firmly. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Harvelle."

Ellen cringed. "Oh don't go making me sound old. It's Ellen, please."

Jaz smiled. "Okay. Ellen, then. We really appreciate your hospitality. We've got nowhere else to go, so…."

"It's not a problem," Ellen replied easily, taking a seat on a folding chair. "Like Dean said, I can use the extra help around the Roadhouse. Now…Dean gave me a quick background on you two," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I've done a lot of thinking over the last couple days about what it means for you two to be setting down roots here. You need to understand that hunters don't always see things in shades of gray. They might see you two with abilities beyond what they understand and consider you dangerous. It's happened before with Sam."

Jaz swallowed and nodded slowly, tightening her grip on Trevor's hand slightly. "Okay."

"It sounds like you've got a good handle on your ability, Jaz, so you can be out and about, working for me, but for Trevor…." Ellen paused, looking at the young boy for a moment. Trevor was very steadily looking at the ground, his gaze looking like he was a million miles away, eyebrows twitching the slightest bit every so often. "Well it annoys me when people talk about someone like they're not in the room, but I'm guessing that Trevor doesn't much participate in conversations?"

Jaz shook her head. "Not so much, no," she whispered.

"Okay. Well he's gonna attract attention if he's always out in the Roadhouse just because he's gonna be the quiet kid who sits in the corner with crayons. Attracting any kind of attention is not good for you two. So hopefully we'll be able to help him out, be there for him, and he'll be able to get a better handle on what he can do. For now, he's gotta stay out of sight mostly, hang in the back while you're working."

"I understand," Jaz said softly.

"Also, I don't know how well he hears things, how clear it is, how much he gets. Do you know?" Ellen asked.

Jaz glanced briefly to her brother. "I really don't anymore. For the last couple days—." She stopped, taking a breath. "He seems really…lost, I guess. They…did things to him. Tried to…. Dean said they tried to make him…more powerful," Jaz whispered. "They pushed his abilities and…it's like they pushed him too far. I just hope he can heal from what they did. I'm scared for him."

Ellen nodded slowly. "Alright. Well, we can't protect Trevor from the world, but if he's hanging back here on a daily basis he's gonna pick up on things," she said quietly. "Whether it's details of a hunt or what, I don't know. It might be violent. It might be scary. A hunter might come in here after a hunt gone wrong hoping to drown his misery in whiskey. I want you to keep tabs on Trevor, make sure he isn't too affected by everything. I don't want to make it worse. If he's too overwhelmed by it all, he can stay back at the house during the day. It's not my first choice, especially if we're going to help him adjust to what he deals with, but making it worse is not something we can afford to do."

Jaz nodded. "I agree."

"As for the visions…when Sam got them, I know they hurt like the dickens. Is that the same with Trevor?"

Jaz narrowed her eyes, slightly confused, and shook her head. "No. Ah…he just seems to…go somewhere else. See through someone else's eyes, I guess. He'll react to what he's seeing; usually it's pretty scary, whether it's the visions during the day or the nightmares. He's woken up screaming the last few nights. That's much more often than he did before. This isn't from visions though. This is just nightmares from…." Jaz swallowed. "Anyway, some of the visions…. Well, really all of them have something to do with something supernatural. He's told me about things he's seen and it's just…. Some of it doesn't make any normal sense. Others it sounds like something out of a horror movie."

Ellen pursed her lips. "Do you know if the things he sees have happened yet?"

"Mostly it's seeing things as they happen," Jaz said.

"Well, if you can give me the details of anything he's seen, I can pass them on to Sam and Dean and they can see if it's anything they can do something about," Ellen told her.

Jaz blinked. "That'd be…great. For Trevor to know that he's helping people…. That'd be a big thing I think."

"Alright. I can afford to pay you $6.00 an hour working tables and such. I wish I could give you more, but—."

"That's fine," Jaz said quickly. "Really. I mean with only $200 a month for rent, you're taking a big hit for us and I appreciate it."

Ellen smiled at her. "You're welcome. So you can put in however many hours a week you want, I'll take out $200 for rent and the rest is yours to save up or whatnot." She glanced back to Trevor. "Do you home school him?"

"Trevor was a real great student up until his abilities started getting too much for him. He's pretty smart, but just keeps it bottled up inside now. I do read with him; teach him math, science, the basics and such. I didn't want him to get too far behind if he did ever get a chance to go back to school. But if I'm working for you, I'll be able to get him some decent home schooling books. He loves to read, mostly because it distracts him from everything else. It's like reading in a crowded room, he told me; everyone talking kind of blurs together and he can block it out."

"Okay. That sounds like a plan, you getting him some books and doing what you can to help him keep up with a normal curriculum. Same goes for you too, you know."

Jaz nodded. "Yea, I know."

"I did manage to get a bunk bed for you two. I put it in Jo's old room. Her old bed is a town or two over being used by a twelve year old," Ellen said. "I'm assuming most of what you've got is in Dean's car?"

"All of it, actually," Jaz replied. "I lost most of it when they grabbed me. I knew I couldn't go back to the apartment in New York City cause they'd find me there. There's nothing there that'll make a trail though; I burn anything that could give someone a hint of who we are." Her expression tightened. "There was a good thousand dollars there though. I'd been saving up. I'm sure it's still there; even if the door was left open and the whole apartment was cleaned out, I keep it under a floorboard in my room."

"Well I'm sure we could get someone to pick that up for you," Ellen said with a nod.

Jaz blinked. "Really?"

"Yea. Hunters are always on the move. I'm sure someone'll pass by New York City and could stop in at your apartment, pick it up, bring it back here the next time they drive through."

Jaz let out a long breath. "Wow. That'd be so great," she said. "You sure you trust the hunters you might call well enough to pick it up?"

"Well…the main thing you should know about hunters is that they're real good at lying and conning when they want to," Ellen said, "but that's when it's necessary or when dealing with civilians. They don't like alienating other people who know what we know because they're hard to come across. In this world, you don't make friends; you make allies. Hunters who don't get that don't last long. Whether you actually go out there and fight this stuff or you grow up with a dad who does it, like my daughter Jo, or you have a husband who did it, like I did, we're all stubborn and loyal to a fault. Though sometimes that can be a bad thing, as long as you're paying attention it makes it pretty easy to know who you can trust and who you can't." Ellen paused. "I think that's everything I wanted to say. There anything else you wanted to mention?" she asked.

Jaz slowly shook her head. "No. I think that's it."

"Alright." Ellen stood up and walked carefully over to Trevor, crouching in front of him. He looked up to her, blinking twice, as if he'd been jarred from deep concentration. "Hey, Trevor. Looks like you're gonna be sticking around for a while. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask," she said. "You can call me Ellen, okay?" Trevor blinked again in response. "Can you say Ellen?"

Trevor pursed his lips, lowering his eyelids, saying in no uncertain terms how patronizing he felt she was being. "Ellen," he stated.

Dean snorted slightly, covering it up with a cough, and Ellen smiled. "Okay, right, you're just quiet, you're not three." She pushed herself to her feet. "I've got to get back to the customers. I'll close early tonight so we can go back to the house, get you settled in."

"Oh no, you don't have to—."

"My saloon, my rules," Ellen told Jaz. "None of my customers are gonna be putting up a stink. I never close early, so when I do they know it's something important. We'll head out of here in about two hours. You kids can stay back here. I'll rustle up some food for you. Sam, Dean, come help me out."

The two young men nodded, getting to their feet and following Ellen back to the saloon.


	9. Chapter 9

_Four Months Later…_

Chapter 9:

"Order up!" grunted a voice from the kitchen.

Jaz finished wiping down the table, flinging the cloth over her shoulder and leaving the bottle of _Fantastic _on the bar counter as she went over to the small window to the kitchen. "Thanks, Billy," she called, taking the basket of fries and bringing them over to the weary man at a nearby table. "Fries and Johnny Blue. Nothin' better, huh?" she asked, her voice even, but slightly low.

"And how would you know anythin' 'bout Johnny Blue, young lady?" mumbled the man, taking a couple of the fries and shoving them in his mouth. His face had passed a 5'oclock shadow a few days prior and his clothes were worn. His jeans that had been stiffened with dirt and then washed many times, a plaid shirt that had once been red and black but had faded to light red and gray, and he donned a comfortable black jacket that Jaz knew probably held several choice weapons.

"I trust your opinion," Jaz replied. "You wouldn't get it every time if it wasn't any good, Bran." He gave an affirmative grunt and took another drink from the bottle, setting it down on the table. "Rough day?" She didn't sit down, just stood beside the table, weight mostly on her left foot, knowing that there wasn't one customer that walked in there wanting a heart to heart.

"Week," he muttered, turning the bottle in his hand.

"Mm. Well, you need anything else, let me know."

"Will do, Jaz."

Jaz turned and went back to the bar, grabbing the spray bottle and tucking it underneath the counter. The bell above the door gave a low ring as someone entered. Her eyes flickered up and a smile surfaced on her face as she saw who it was. "Dean, Sam!" she said, walking quickly around the counter. "I didn't know you guys were passing through."

"We weren't sure. Thought we'd make it a surprise," Dean said with a crooked smile, taking the girl in a hug.

Jaz gave Sam a hug as well, motioning to the back area of the saloon. "Come on, Ellen's in the back. She can cover for me for a while." The two boys nodded and followed her, closing the door behind themselves. "Trevor, you doing well with the math?" she asked. The young boy nodded and smiled slightly to Sam and Dean, who smiled back. "Hey Ellen!"

"Yea?" called a voice from a nearby storage closet.

"These two guys came in, real troublemakers," Jaz said with a smile. "No manners _what_soever, drunk out of their _minds_…."

Ellen emerged from the closet, tossing the clipboard onto the small table nearby and let out a low chuckle. "Troublemakers, huh? Might have to go get my Desert Eagle," she said, giving Sam and Dean a brief hug each.

"Oh, please don't do that again," Sam said, raising his eyebrows.

Jaz cocked an eyebrow. "May I ask what you did to make her take it out the first time?"

Sam pursed his lips in a smile, taking a seat on a folding chair. "Yea, we never told you that. First time we met. Dean and I came into the Roadhouse—."

"Broke in," Ellen corrected him.

"We didn't break anything," Dean told Jaz. "I picked the lock very carefully."

Jaz snorted. "Right."

"We called out, nobody answered. I came back here to look around, Dean stayed out front, and we both ended up with guns trained on us," Sam said. "Ellen's Desert Eagle on me and Jo's rifle on Dean. Dean grabbed the rifle away from her, but then Jo…punched him in the nose and took it back."

"Huh," Jaz said, leaning back against the wall. "Now I'm sorry, how…how old was this _girl_…when this happened?" she asked innocently, looking over to Dean.

Dean glared at her. "She was raised by a hunter. Age and sex do not count," he said pointedly.

"Sure, Dean," Ellen said, giving him a clap on the shoulder. "I'll be out front," she told Jaz, who nodded back. Dean glared at her back as she left.

"So how've you guys been?" Jaz asked. She walked over to the couch, taking a seat next to her brother as Dean took a seat next to Sam. "Haven't heard from you in a few weeks."

"There was a series of hauntings we were working on for a while," Sam said. "Then a voodoo zombie thing. But we're boring. Tell us about you guys."

Jaz couldn't help a grin. "Boring. Right. Ah…Trevor's doing real well. Working on his math, as you can see," she said, motioning to the young boy focusing on his workbook. "Still doing well with the school stuff."

"Still quiet as a haunted forest," Trevor murmured, carefully plotting out a math problem.

"Still reading minds too," Sam said with a nod and a tight smile.

Jaz snorted. "Ya. Can't do much about that. But not so much with the nightmares anymore. The last vision was at least three weeks ago. You heard about that from Bobby."

"Yea. Joshua said he took care of it," Dean said.

"We heard. I'm so glad that something good can come out of the visions. It doesn't in the least bit make it okay, but I think it makes you feel a little better about it, huh, Trev?" she asked, looking over to her brother. He nodded, not looking up. "I've been busy with all the book-learnin' too," Jaz said, her gaze moving back to the boys.

"That so?" Dean asked. "You think you could give Sam a run for his money in calculus or something?"

Jaz's smile widened. "Unlikely. But I'm not losing brain cells due to inactivity at least."

"That's good," Dean said. "Always good to keep those brain cells. Never know when you might need 'em."

"You plan anything out past the next couple of months?" Sam asked. "Not that there's any hurry or anything, I'm just wondering."

"I've been thinking on it. Talking to Ellen," Jaz replied. "I really like it here and so does Trevor. Ellen said there's no hurry to leave, so it's really not a top priority. Honestly…we're safe here," she said quietly. "Or as safe as we can be. I'm saving up money if I ever decide to do something with it. I'm learning to protect myself and Trevor. So really, I've got no reason to leave. It's…." Jaz paused. "It's a home. And I think it's more of a home than our trailer ever was."

Sam gave her a smile. "I think that's great," he said. "So how about you show us how your bar-tending skills are coming along?"

Jaz smiled back. "Sounds good." She briefly rubbed Trevor's back before standing up and following the boys out into the saloon.

**THE END**


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